OPERATION OVERCAST (Nerves of Steel mission)

"You don't know anything about me." Siegfried stated as he scratched one of the dogs behind the ears, it whined almost inaudibly. Siegfried stood and turned back to Douglas and the German.
"Steh auf!" Siegfried commanded, the soldier paused for a second before standing, using the tree as a support since his hands were bound.
"Versuchen Sie nicht zu rennen, oder er wird schießen." Siegfried cautioned as he untied the dobermans, keeping a firm grip of the leashes so they wouldn't run off.

"Doug, you lead the way back to the glider, our friend will follow and I will be right behind him." Siegfried said.

Siegfried looked to the captured soldier again. "Folgen Sie ihm." he ordered.

Sergio clasped the good doctor on his shoulder.
"I trust your judgement. If this man is doomed to die, let us make him as comfortable as possible," the satyr said, his horned head nodding toward the pilot. "But if you wish to save him, I would suggest doing so soon. Every moment we waste discussing the matter is a moment you may never get back, and I believe his condition is only worsening as time goes on."
With that, Sergio stood up and surveyed the area, leaving Thorsten to do what he would.
"Where are the others?"

"Well I can't say.", said Akira to Sergio. "They are probably still on patrol. I do hope they get back soon. Oh, by the way can I have my rifle back? Its sort of keepsake from my days in the Japanese army.". Before Akira accepted the rifle, he ran over to one of the mostly untouched German bodies and grabbed its automatic rifle and whatever clips of ammo he could find. Walking back to Sergio Akira handed over the gun and ammo and said, "Here. Take these.". After the hand-off, Akira accepted his rifle back, reloaded it and slipped it horizontal between the straps of his backpack. Uncomfortable, but it worked. "Oh.", Akira said before Sergio moved away, "I never did catch your name. I am Akira Hasimoto and you are...?". As Akira said this he extended his hand, ready for a firm, albeit furry, handshake.

"Sergio," the satyr said, shaking hands with the Japanese. "Sergio Botticelli (no relation to the Renaissance painter). It is nice to meet you. I am a satyr who was born and raised by the OPI, more or less, taken from my home at an early age for protection. I owe everything I am to the Office." He was silent for a moment. "So, uh, what's your story?"

"Well...", Akira said hesitantly, "I used to work for the Japanese military. I enlisted, and got some combat training until they discovered i was terrible at it. They moved me to the science laboratories and I worked there for a while until I caught wind of the Emperor's plan to join the Nazi party. Being known well in the science community, I contacted um... my um.. relatives. Yes, relatives in the US and moved there after my term of service had um... ended. Then I worked for the US Army until I came here." Akira breathed a sight of relief after he ended his life's story. "Well that's my story. Not the best time for this but at least we know each other better. Builds trust. Well, getting back to the present situation, what should we do about the guys scouting?"

Jonathan's search was as rewarding as he'd expected - he salvaged a three clips of ammunition for the assault rifle, a Luger sidearm and a combat knife, which he tucked away. The German's uniform yielded three small buttons, and a pair of belts from the webbing the commando had been wearing. Unfortunately, the balaclava the man had been wearing was in less than ideal condition - Jonathan blanched, shying away from the dead man's ruined face. Having scavenged all he could, Jonathan rejoined the group, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.


The handler quietly followed Doug, obviously not wanting to annoy the man who'd tamed his attack dogs and had a rifle levelled at his back. The dogs followed after the man, their normally aggressive nature replaced by one halfway between calm and fear - it was obvious they didn't like Siegfried, but obeyed him regardless. Doug, Sten in hand, carved a trail back towards the glider's wreckage, emerging from the trees with a wave. "We're home! An' we even brought a souvenir!" Siegfried prodded the handler in the back, urging him forward and into the clearing.


Thorsten's decision was growing harder by the minute. Time was of the essence; the pilot gave a weak cough, blood trickling down his chin, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Thorsten would have to act now or never...

((Well, that was eventful. I'll try to rush this a little bit, but you guys kinda have the emphasis on you at the moment - there's a prisoner to interrogate, a barn to find and a pilot to heal. Get cracking! ))

"No, not really," Sergio replied to Akira. "Oh look, here they come now. I think that one is ... I don't know his name. But he has a child...?" Sergio squinted into the darkness. "That's ... tragic. Sending a young person like that into battle." The satyr shook his head.

He then snapped his fingers and stood up straight suddenly.
"Something just occurred to me; we still have a mission going on." He whipped out his notebook and took out the briefing notes. "Here," he said, pointing to the paper, showing Akira. "We are here(ish). And we need to find ..." he squinted at the notes again. "A barn. Or something. And soon." He looked at the sky, tying to find something. "If we find the North Star or something, maybe we can head ..." he looked at the map again. "East.* That's where the barn should be."





((*I can't remember if this is right or not.))

"I do not vant to be responsible for zis man's death. I vill try to heal him, though. He deserves ze chance," Thorsten said courageously. He ran into the glider and lay the pilot down on one of the seats. Harnessing all the power he could, he waved his hand over the pilot's body while chanting ancient Hebrew incantations. A white glow emanated not only from the gaping wound, but also from the staff's ancient carvings. Thorsten felt sure his power would succeed this time.

Score! Jonathan thought to himself after having looted the German soldier. It had been a very nice 'catch'. Lots of nifty and usable items and a nice gun to boot. He stashed away the items and the additional clips (keeping one reload in his jacket, same for his pistol), but kept the machine-rifle, safety on, at hand as he moved back to the glider and the team.

"No, not really," Sergio replied to Akira. "Oh look, here they come now. I think that one is ... I don't know his name. But he has a child...?" Sergio squinted into the darkness. "That's ... tragic. Sending a young person like that into battle." The satyr shook his head. "Something just occurred to me; we still have a mission going on.", said Akira's new found friend Sergio. Sergio whipped a notebook and took out what appeared to be the briefing notes. "Here," he said, pointing to the paper, showing Akira. "We are here(ish). And we need to find ..." he squinted at the notes again. "A barn. Or something. And soon." Sergio then looked at the sky. Apparently trying to find something. "If we find the North Star or something, maybe we can head ..." Sergio looked at the map again. "East. That's where the barn should be." "Well," Akira said, "That sounds about as good as it gets for now. I honestly have no clue. I am terrible with maps. Maybe that big German guy that went scouting found it." Looking at Siegfried, Akira saw the prisoner that Siegfried had acquired. Apparently, he was a dog handler. Akira thought Siegfried lucky that he wasn't dog food by now. "Well we should ask him what he found.", said Akira to Sergio as he pointed to Siegfried.

Siegfried prodded the soldier into the clearing where the glider was.
"Sitz." He commanded, nodding at a log with his chin, the soldier complied and sat on the log.
Siegfried tied the dogs to a small tree at the edge of the clearing and walked over to the soldier.
"Es tut mir leid, dass über Ihren Hals." Siegfried said as he walked over and knelt in front of the German soldier.

"Sprechen Sie Englisch?" He asked, slinging his StG46 over his right shoulder.

Thorsten closed his eyes, feeling the warmth that accompanied the use of his power flow through him. The staff glowed a blinding white, and those that were watching were forced to turn away. The pilot shuddered, the white light seeming to soak into his wound, before opening his eyes with a gasp. Looking down, Thorsten smiled weakly - the wound had closed over, not even leaving a bruise. Trying to stand, the doctor stumbled, to be caught by Conrad; the healing had cost him much strength, and he felt that one other such attempt would leave him drained. Fortunately, Thorsten still had his conventional medical supplies, which he felt would be needed sooner rather than later...


Prodding the German soldier forward, Siegfried gestured for the man to sit on the log - a command the bewildered handler obeyed without question. Doug slung his Sten gun and quickly lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. "Well, scouting party was a flop, but we got a new friend. Maybe we can use 'im as a bullet shield or sommit." Siegfried scowled, then started speaking to the handler in German. The rest of the group were left clueless, with the exception of Jonathan and Thorsten, both of whom realised Siegfried was trying to establish if the soldier spoke German.

"Y-yes," the handler replied, his voice raspy - the blow to the throat had probably done some damage. Siegfried quickly established that the man was healthy with a series of questions, going so far as to lend him his water canteen and a cloth to clean his bloodied nose. Reassuring the man he would be fine, Siegfried quickly calmed the man - who had been staring at Sergio with an expression somewhere between shock and fear - explaining that the group was not what it appeared. In his friendliest voice – which, admittedly, needed some work – Siegfried explained that he would do his best to get the young man out of Europe and back to Allied shores, but that he would need some incentive to go to such lengths. Douglas raised an eyebrow at the comment, but was quickly silenced by Never Misses. The young soldier sighed, and began to speak in broken English.
“You want know about camp, ja? I vill explain…”


After a few minutes, and several clarifications of meaning, the soldier had passed on everything he knew about the camp. Patrols of seven commandos – the ones the group had just fought off – combed the area on a regular basis, while dog teams of two handlers and four hounds lurked near the roads. The handler explained his partner had fallen ill whilst on patrol and had returned to camp, leaving him alone to be captured. He also told Siegfried the camp was defended by two heavy machinegun nests, and was guarded by around seventy Waffen-SS and twenty Wehrmacht soldiers. There was some light armour within the camp, but the man didn’t know the details – according to the handler, the Wehrmacht were kept in the dark as to much of the camp’s defences in case of capture, and what actually occurred within the camp was a secret even from most of the SS. Thanking the handler, Siegfried stood and turned to the group, a rarely-seen smile on his face.

“Well, no sense sittin’ around ‘ere,” Doug said, gripping his Sten. “Barn’s not goin’ t’ come to us. I’ll lead – only one with a compass, after all. Try to keep up.” Heading off out of the clearing, the group was forced to hastily grab their gear and follow the British soldier before he vanished into the darkness.


The sounds of barking dogs echoing in the distance spurred the group forward, ducking through the forest at a quick pace. Doug lead the way, his compass never leaving his hand. Minutes later, the group arrived at the dirt road that ran all the way to the camp. The British soldier held up a hand, fist balled – the military field signal for ‘stop.’ The group ducked down beside the road, and the soldier began speaking in a hushed tone.
“Weapons ready. We’re about to ‘ave company.”

Sure enough, as soon as he finished talking, the rumbling of an engine filled the group’s ears. A half-track rolled into sight, a floodlight mounted above the cabin sweeping the woods. Siegfried recognized the vehicle as a Sd.Kfz. 251, but he wasn’t sure of the model – it was one he hadn’t seen before. An MG 42 swiveled menacingly, the gunner scanning the treeline. A yell from the gunner saw the vehicle grind to a halt, and Never Misses hissed, pushing Akira down – the floodlight had shone directly onto the man’s equipment, light reflecting off a metallic object on his pack. The rear hatch of the half-track opened, and ten men spilled out – the driver seemed content to stay inside the armored vehicle, while the gunner remained behind the mounted gun. The patrol quickly hefted their weapons, approaching the ditch slowly – it was clear that they weren’t sure what they were looking for, and as such the group still had the element of surprise. Douglas clutched at his Sten gun and nodded once, then leapt to his feet, firing – the soldiers scattered as the Brit’s gun barked. The rest of the group seized the initiative and leapt to their feet, weapons ready…

((So there’s ten guys and a gunner on top of the half-track. Same rules apply as before, guys – tell me what you’re going to do. We’re currently on the edge of the road in a ditch, so there’s quite a bit of cover around, but that MG 42’s not going to be very forgiving…))

Sergio swore. He had very little real combat training (other than the drills he did back at the OPI as part of his education), and thus was not quite ready for playing the hero like Doug. And idea struck him.
"Does anyone have any grenades?" he asked, loud enough over the gunfire. "Wait, Doug's up there. Bad idea." He looked around. "Rocks," he said. "Big rocks. I need big rocks." The satyr quickly searched the ditch, looking for large rocks, light enough to be thrown, but heavy enough to hit someone in the head and hurt. A lot.

Jonathan didn't make a sound, but in his mind, the profanities were at war. He hated these kind of situations. As he lay himself down in the grass and carefully trained the iron sights of his newly acquired rifle on one of the enemy soldiers, while not forgetting to switch the gun's safety to off, he really hoped that Never Misses would do his name honor by ruining the half-track's gunner in a single shot. At which point Jonathan would then try and take out his primed target.

Thorsten hadn't fired a gun like the submachine gun he had swiped from the soldiers before. His only knowledge of long bore weapons came from his earlier years in which he sometimes hunted with his father in the Black Forest. He got into firing position in the ditch and spotted one of the patrolmen's feet sticking out underneath the half-track. Taking advantage of this, he fired at the vulnerable ankles.

"Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.", Akira thought as the patrol team opened fire. Akira knew two things. The first is that the MG-42 would decimate their little crack team. Second, They were out gunned and out-numbered. Akira pulled out his automatic rifle, flipped off the safety and aimed down the sights. Looking around, Akira saw the 10 patrol men, and then he trained his sights on the MG-42. "The gunner shield would be hard to get around." Akira thought to himself. Aiming at the MG-42, Akira fired in bursts of 3, occasionally firing in a couple extra bullets due to his inexperience with automatic weapons. He knew what to do, but never put it into practice. He hoped for a lucky hit as the thought of bullets ripping through Akira's body made him sick, almost to the point of throwing up.

"Down!" Siegfried shouted at the german soldier as he shoved him back into the ditch where he would be mostly safe.

"ANGRIFF!" Siegfried ordered the attack dogs he'd commandeered, he released the leashes, keeping an eye on them as they ran.
He dropped to one knee, bringing his StG46 to his shoulder, he lined the sights up with the closest German soldier and shouted
"FÜR DAS VATER-LAND" and squeezed the trigger and dragging the sights across the group of soldiers, the assault rifle bucked in his hands as the empty brass flew away.

As soon as the first shot was fired, Jonathan almost instinctively pulled the trigger, releasing a small volley of bullets at his target. And then he noticed that no one had taken out the gunner yet... Everyone was firing, the enemy was running all over the place and the gunner... well it was only a small matter of time until he rip them to shreds with heavy cal. automatic fire. Jonathan was really hoping that someone who was a slightly better shot than him would take the guy out before he'd get focused and start turning the entire team to minced-meat...

Glancing around, Sergio was in luck; the ditch was filled with fist-sized rocks, sunken halfway into the mud. Presumably, the group was lying in what had once been a small stream of some kind, and the rocks were left long after the water had evaporated. Scooping several out of the mud, the satyr readied himself for whatever he was about to do.

Thorsten's reasoning was sound - after all, firing at the enemy's ankles would immoblise them, leaving them at the mercy of the group. However, his execution was lacking. Unused to the kick of the automatic rifle, Thorsten could barely control the bucking weapon as the recoil blasted the barrel upwards. A cry from the road confirmed a hit, but the long burst of automatic fire also drew the attention of the enemy - Thorsten was forced to dive unceremoniously into the ditch, bullets whizzing overhead.

Jonathan's wild firing did little actual damage, but it did keep the enemy pinned down for a moment. Squeezing the trigger, Jonathan grinned as a burst hit home; his eyes widened when the soldier stood back up, firing back at him. In the moonlight, the scientist noted these mechanised infantry weren't equipped like the handler; they seemed to be wearing body armour of some description, and his burst had struck the man on the chest. Though not particularly thick, the armour seemed to be quite resilient. Noting this, Jonathan quickly shifted his aim to the man's legs and fired again, dropping the soldier with a yelp of pain.

Siegfried fared slightly better. Snarling, the dogs launched themselves at one of the troopers, who vanished underneath their rippling frames with a cry of anguish. Likewise, the trained soldier's aim was true; lead scythed through the German ranks, downing two of their soldiers. The German was forced to retreat as the remaining soldiers brought their weapons to bear, but the damage was done - with three men downed, the Germans began to falter. That is, until the gunner on the half-track intervened...

Akira's concerns about the MG 42 mounted on the halftrack were entirely well-founded; the gunner quickly brought the weapon to bear, and the bark of the firing machinegun echoed through the forest. Firing in long bursts, the gunner forced the group back into the ditch as the soldiers advanced. Akira's shots went wide, one ricocheting off the metalwork of the half-track; given the bullets biting into the dirt at the top of the ditch, it was little wonder the Japanese scientist missed. Stranded too far from cover, Doug continued to fire, downing another soldier. The gunner quickly adjusted his aim, and from the relative safety of the ditch, the group of operatives could do nothing as the machinegun was brought to bear on the unfortunate British soldier. Jerking, Doug collapsed to the ground, riddled with holes. The gunner allowed himself a brief smile, then brought the heavy weapon to bear on the ditch once more...


((^ That's what the soldiers are wearing. As a status update, five soldiers are down, but the gunner is still doing his stuff. Doug has caught a burst of MG 42 fire to the chest, and the rest of you have retreated to the ditch.))

Sergio hit the side of the ditch as the machine gun chewed into the mud opposite him. He stood, wide-eyed as the mud exploded in front of him.
"That could have been us," he breathed. "Shit." He shook his horned head, trying to clear the clouds of doubt. Adrenaline was pounding through his veins once more, and he looked down at the rock in his arms. He took a deep breath, then picked up a rock. It was smooth, a little small, but it would do the trick. With a flick of his wrist, the satyr sent the rock flying into the air, above the ditch. He angled the trajectory so that the rock would land roughly where Sergio thought the German soldiers were last time he saw them. Then, without waiting for the dull -THUNK- of the rock hitting home, he tossed the next. Then the next. He continued tossing until he was out, at which point he searched for the rocks around him to throw some more. Hopefully, at least some would hit something.


((This really wasn't supposed to be that big of a deal. He's just throwing some rocks to cause confusion.))

Akira had missed. "I missed. That gunner should be dead.", Akira said under his breath. Back in the ditch, Akira was positive the gunner was training his sights on the ditch this second, ready to make swiss cheese of the next person to pop their head up out of the ditch. This made Akira throw up in his mouth a bit. Recovering, Akira saw Sergio throwing rocks at the Germans. Pointing his gun in the direction Sergio was throwing, Akira held the gun up and shot off a few rounds. Then he quickly hunkered down and got as low as possible to avoid the inevitable spray of red hot bullets screaming from the MG-42. While he was hunkered down, Akira pulled his rifle out from the straps of his backpack. Suddenly, he realized that he could shoot out the tires. If he did this while the MG-42 was firing, it would most likely throw off the gunner's aim and maybe make him let go. This might make an opening to take out the gunner. Wanting a second opinion, Akira moved to the nearest person and told them his plan.


(I don't know who is next to me so Grom, if you could just post who I speak my plan to)

"Scheiße," muttered Thorsten under his breath, "I can't fight worth an SS officer's pocket watch." Thorsten tossed the German gun aside in favor of his trusty Luger. He quickly drew the pistol and leaned over the edge of the ditch to squeeze off a few hastily aimed shots before ducking back behind cover.

Siegfried ducked back into the ditch and shrugged his y-strap harness with all his rifle magazine pouches off, and dumped them onto the ground along with the Stahlhelm he'd appropriated.
"Watch these." He said to Sergio who'd just finished throwing his rocks. Siegfried unbuttoned his gray fieldjacket and threw it onto the ground, his undershirt followed. Siegfried also ripped his boots off and they joined the rest of his shedded gear.

Siegfried turned toward the Halftrack, cracked his neck from side to side and rolled his shoulders as he felt a familiar ripple across his skin.

{(OOC: Grom, you're offline with Steam, but you know what I'm doing.)}

Sergio's aim with the rocks seemed to be better than with a pistol; several muffled yells rang out, though the rocks did little more than daze the Germans. The disctraction was all that Thorsten needed; a soldier dropped to the scientist's wild firing, Thorsten allowing himself a moment of satisfaction. Lying prone next to Akira, Never Misses shook his head as the Japanese scientist outlined his plan. Pointing to the front tires, the Lakota indicated the rear tracks. "Weight is at back," he grunted, nodding towards the heavy metal tracks that made the half-track such a useful all-terrain vehicle. "Front tires are for steering." Akira quickly realised the folly of his plan; shooting the tires would do little besides hinder the vehicle's steering, and given its current position, that would do very little.

Conrad was about to squeeze off a shot when his view was obstructed by a large, distinctly furry shape. Only Never Misses and Conrad were able to maintain their composure; the rest of the group paused as the enormous beast let out a howl. The MG 42 gunner, momentarily stunned, quickly rallied, bringing the weapon to bear even as the creature charged. The heavy machinegun barely seemed to phase the creature; it merely lowered its head and pushed on, despite the wounds the weapon wrought. The gunner barely had time to scream as the beast swung a clawed fist at his head. The machinegun abruptly ceased firing, and the beast turned, snarling. Wolfish in form, the creature stood at nearly eight feet tall, its brown coat rippling. The German soldiers took one look at the beast and panicked, momentarily forgetting the presence of the rest of the operatives as they brought their weapons around. Never Misses and Conrad seized the opportunity, and two rifle shots shattered the night, dropping two of the mechanised infantry. Seizing the initiative, Akira dispatched a third soldier even as the beast lumbered forward towards the last two infantry. To their credit, they kept firing as the monster tore them apart.

As silence desceneded, the rest of the group cautiously rose from the ditch, their weapons levelled at the monster. Thorsten and Jonathan, slightly more aware of their surroundings, realised Siegfried was nowhere to be seen; the wolfman seemed to be picking its teeth with a bayonet.

((So the soldiers are all dead, Siegfried's missing and there's a werewolf. Douglas got shot, so he's probably lying around somewhere. This is just a quick update because Janitor keeps nagging me, and I realise I need to accelerate this a little bit.))

Thorsten was the first to emerge from the trench. He knew exactly where the werewolf had come from. "Herr Rosenberg? Is zat you?" the good doctor asked meagerly as he stood, waiting for a reply.